A Valentine's Day Carol
by Dame Saturday
Summary: A neckbeard gets a rude awakening from the most unlikely of sources...a female grim reaper. The gods must be crazy and angry. It is divine intervention with a modern twist. Contains mature themes and swearing.


Okay, for those who do not know me, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dame Saturday, a knight and reaper for the death god, Hades. I am an angel of death whose duties include harvesting souls of the living and maintaining order in purgatory and beyond. While off-duty, I like to entertain the living via YouTube. Sometimes I am assigned to special cases where I deliver messages, warnings, and epiphanies to the living. And this certain case is what I like to call "A Valentine's Day Carol." It entails a young man with questionable and deplorable tendencies who on the verge of death received an ultimatum by the gods themselves. It is either to atone and change his ways or he shall suffer in an unpleasant afterlife. Call it Hell, Gahena, Tartarus, Land of Eternal Suffering, it all serves the same purpose.

You may be curious of my client and why he has brought on the wrath of Venus upon himself. I shall read off his history record and list the offenses.

Name- Rex Bartholomew Goldberg

Alias- "Golden King"

Age- 32

Height- 5 feet 9 inches or 175 centimeters

Weight- 280 lbs or 20 stone or 127 kilograms

Zodiac Sign- Cancer the Crab

Good deeds- cleans his grandparents' house once a week, employment at a used book/game store

Offenses- unwanted sexual advances to women, breaks couples apart, and seems to be a primary motivation, wanting the latest entertainment and any fandom related merchandise, begging women to buy expensive items, easily offended by trivial issues, is aggressive to those who are competition in any contest or considered to be a rival in love affairs, verbally abusive especially when online, narcissistic, sociopath, selfish, hypocritical, sexist, racist, loves to flaunt his intelligence and collections, compares himself to a god, declares himself as a supreme being

Catch Phrases, "Drink Bleach." "Kill yourself." "Hope you die in a car wreck." "Good day, milady." "I am the golden king!"

His childhood was quite dysfunctional to put it mildly and has been over-indulged by his mother. A father had been absent due to a divorce during the son's infancy. A few men had attempted to fill the role of father but they were faced with hostility by Mr. Goldberg. Being distraught by loneliness and other complexities, his mother devoted all of her attention towards her child. Coddled him, mildly punished him, and fulfilled his every need regardless of any circumstance. Unfortunately, his mother's influence failed to teach the boy empathy, selflessness, strict morals, and mental fortitude. It was bound to nurture a man to become such a vile creature.

Now onto the part where Venus had been angered by Mr. Goldberg. A comic book convention had been held in Mid-Western America and my client had to attend. His favorite voice actor, Tara Strong, would be featured at this event and it made him overloaded with excitement. A news reporter had been interviewing this voice actor during a live broadcast. Venus, being a fan of My Little Pony, could not resist watching the event. The interview was conducted smoothly. This is where the goddess had witnessed a horrible sight in the background of the interview. My client had plowed his way through unsuspecting young girls. It was awful! The man's large, flabby arms throwing each aside as they were dainty dolls towards the hard and unforgiving red carpet. "Out of my way, females!" he yelled, not bothered by their cries of pain. Nor was it his concern that he stepped on a whimpering girl's leg, fracturing the tibia bone from beneath his combat boots. He yelled with excitement while waving his arms, "Hey! Hey! Tara Strong! I worship you, my sparkling goddess!"

Needless to say, Venus considered this to be a travesty, an offense towards women, and a blasphemy towards what the fandom had represented. She was angry enough to throw her remote control at the television, smashing the screen open, and immediately call my boss, Hades, from her jewel encrusted phone. Which lead to this lovely conversation between the two deities. How I had heard their exchange was that Hades has tendency to put people's phone calls on speaker mode while playing golf.

Their conversation had been the following…

Venus: "I am so enraged right now! I need you to punish a certain mortal man for me! I want him dead!"

Hades: *mumbles* Oh, my god, seriously? Can not get through a damn century without her whining about some mortal?

Venus: Excuse me?! What was that?

Hades: I said, what has gotten that proverbial pole stuck up your ass this time?

Venus: A neck beard has plowed through innocent and helpless girls, he thinks that he is above the female gender. I will not stand by while this ogre of a man can walk over women like that. Take a look at this!

Hades: *looks at his phone's screen to see the footage of Mr. Goldberg plowing down the fans* And I care why? Humans act like idiots everyday! Hell, I have to deal with these idiots every time they die. In fact I am up to my elbows in dealing with the dead. I don't have time to deal with your whiny bullshit.

Venus: You owe me after I got you hooked up with Persephone.

Hades: Oh, like that is a favor. I run Hell and you gave me a ball and chain which is basically my own hell. Thank you for that and fuck off.

Venus: Then you will have to deal with him when he dies lonely.

Hades: You think that I will notice a loser among a sea of losers who come through my gates every year? Please honey, you fuck or make people fuck. Your job is easy compared to mine. I am too busy for this shit. You deal with it or get over it.

Venus: If you don't do something about this now…I will reign down misery on your emo ass for all of eternity on issues like these! If you think that marriage is hell then you have not seen mine, gloom cookie.

Hades: Fine fine I will have it taken care of. Just please try to shut the fuck up for one god damn millennia. Act your age, you stupid bitch!

The death god then hung up the phone, ending the conversation on an abrupt note.

This is the part where I became involved in this divine intervention. My phone had chimed while I had been giving my daily data to one of the clerks in the record hall. I looked to see it was a text message from Hades which read: I have a special assignment for you, Saturday.

My reply had been: Oh? May I ask what this assignment could be?

A few moments have passed which I had anticipated the response to be either a long explanation and/or a rant. And after five minutes, a message had been sent.

Hades: Look, I had to deal with Venus complaining about a certain mortal over the phone. I do not want to put up with that goddess again! He pissed her off now I am pissed off. The mortal knocked over a few little girls at My Little Pony convention and she gets triggered. This where you come in. You are one of my best people to deal with this type. I need you to give this loser an ultimatum, either to atone or he gets to stay here in Tartarus. He is scheduled to choke on a candy bar in a week from now so you will get to meet him. I don't care how you do it, just get me some results. Do I make myself clear?!

My reply was: As clear as crystal, sir. May I have a history record of this mortal?

Another moment has passed in which an email notification had chimed and looked over the record briefly. A photo of my client's bloated face covered in blemishes and unkempt brown hair had only been the icing of this degenerate cake. I smiled wickedly and gave this delightful message,

Me: Consider it done, sir.

Oh, the internet had exploded with memes on Mr. Goldberg's actions. Most were mocking him and his standards while a small minority had deemed it to be favorable. The general public continues to be fickle regardless of technology and era. Human nature has not changed over the centuries. If I continue to shake my head any further, it shall fall off…again!

I had arrived to the designated area where the choking was to occur. Phasing through dirty socks and empty bags of potato chips and candies upon the floor was convenient as I had entered my clients filthy bedroom. And judging from the clear jugs of urine which had stood near a computer desk, his laziness disregarded such normal etiquette. Scantily clad posters of Japanese animated female characters covered the walls. A body pillow that depicted another such character who appeared to be bashful, rested on the messy bed. The room reeked of rotting food, urine, and tobacco. Such odors would be offensive to the average mortal, but it was nothing compared to the unholy stench from the pits of Tartarus. My tolerance is slightly higher as I had been exposed to such things on many occasions. Would I consider it to be appealing? Not in the slightest.

I waited patiently for the soul exiting the body as he sat at his desk and eating a thick candy bar. From what was observed, his eyes widened and the face contorted into a deep rage with the skin shaded in magenta. I could only assume that he had participated in a chat room argument and was bested in wit. He attempted to bellow in anger but he was silenced by the fatal piece of food lodged in his trachea. I shall spare the details of his choking, but it was enough to have the man cough violently and wheeze then eventually fall over backwards from his swivel chair, plummeting to the littered floor.

His soul emerged from the massive body and was no different from the others who discovered that they are dead. Looking about the room with their mouth agape then screaming in horror to see themselves outside of their shell. It is the usual business for me to contend with.

"Hello, Mr. Goldberg, it is nice to finally meet you in person." I said with forced pleasantry.

He stepped backwards upon seeing me in both astonishment and surprise. "Who and what are you?! Are you Death…?" he said, being terrified.

"That is my job and it is nothing personal. I am a reaper, you may call me, Dame Saturday. We have seen your latest offense on national television and know everything about you. Considering how you are a fool and have yet to learn common decency, we are giving an ultimatum. Either to atone for your offenses or be placed in an eternal time-out, man-child. The choice is yours from which I care less about your fate." I explained with a smile.

"First of all, who are you to tell me what to do. Second, I can not take you seriously. Third, morals are subjective. Fourth, being an angel of sex is more befitting for your beauty. Finally, I want to be alive again. If you can not do that then get me a male reaper to do the job." he demanded while wagging a pointer finger in my direction.

I began to laugh heartily for a moment and said in a condescending tone, "My, my, a mortal making demands of an angel. You are a hilarious! And as for your blatant sexism, such views are for the weak-minded. It is adorable to think you have any authority over me and fail to comprehend the situation you are in, my dear." I pointed at the silver chain which protruded from his heart to the heart of his body and said, "This is what hope you have left of being alive again. A reaper's duty is to sever the chain, thereby giving you an official death. I could cut this chain with my scythe at any moment so it is in your best interest to cooperate."

He scowled and shouted, "How dare you judge me like that! I am a nice guy."

"If your definition of being a nice guy is to play mind games, being disrespectful, forcing your unwarranted affections, hurting anyone who obstructs your selfish goals…then you are a sweetheart. Said no decent human being ever." I said casually.

"You are pissing me off, you harlot!" he yelled between clenched teeth, balling his fists tightly.

"And you are amusing me. Let us get to the point of this conversation. Agree to the contract of atonement or be permanently dead and suffering in your own personal hell in my world. You only have me to contend with, my dear. There are other beings that are fare worse than I waiting to torture you and this is the only ounce of mercy you will ever be given in your pathetic existence. Choose wisely." I said with a wicked smile.

The man grumbled while shaking his fists, grinding his teeth, muttering obscenities beneath his breath. After a moment of his contained tantrum had subsided, he finally spoke in a bitter tone, "What are the terms of this contract?"

I chuckled softly and said, "They are simple terms to follow. You must dye your hair a neon shade of pink as your devotion to Venus and display humility. Serve ten years in a match-making service to atone for breaking couples apart by your deceit. Write a confession on all of your offenses and fantasies to post it on social media sites. And serve twenty years in a counseling service since you had told others to commit suicide. Failure to meet these terms will result in another visit from me and I will not hesitate to send you to your personal hell. Do you accept this contract, Mr. Goldberg?"

His eyes widened and was about to protest, then looked to his body upon the floor and faced me after exhaling a heavy sigh. "I accept, Dame Saturday." he said and bowed at the waist.

"Good, now go back to your life." I said in a mock flirtatious tone, stroking his cheek. He had blushed then screamed as I grasped the back of his head and shoved his soul into the body. I did not want to touch him again directly so I had stomped upon the diaphragm at the base of his lungs to force the candy out from his throat. It was comical to see the item being launched into the air and land between his eyes with a squishy splatter.

Upon waking, my client began to log into his social media accounts where he had written all of his offenses and disturbing fantasies. After an hour of him posting the candid material, my phone chimed with a text message from Hades.

Hades: Good job, Saturday! What are you doing to the guy to make him confess like that? Was it torture? Scaring him? Come on, tell me!

Me: Just used good old-fashioned persuasion, sir.

Hades: Is there more?

Me: He has to do community service in match-making, and anti suicide. All while having his hair be pink.

Hades: Oh, that is degrading! You have my praise and received vacation time. Venus better be happy or I have more roasting to do.

Me: Don't worry, it is also less for you to deal with.

Hades: True, you have the rest of the day-off. Enjoy your vacation time for a week.

Me: Thank you, sir.

The events that followed on Valentine's Day seemed miraculous. Couples across the world were brought together at an incredible rate. The global community of the internet became slightly more tolerable by Mr. Goldberg's actions. Venus' love angels had less difficulty while performing their duties, from which they had spoken affectionately of my client. The suicide rates of the dead had decreased at an alarming rate in under a month. The salt in Hades' disposition had been lowered to mildly irate. Both deities are pleased. Though, it was amusing to occasionally watch Mr. Goldberg grimace while doing his penance and become bewildered to see women flirt with him online after months of being under the contract.

The golden king truly had been great after all since he now rules over compassion instead of toxicity.

As for myself, I still do my knightly duties with a little more bounce in my step than usual, being satisfied with the results.


End file.
